


A Moment's Silence

by daddylonglegs13



Series: Horny Time Lords Have No Rights [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Historical Dress, Unresolved Sexual Tension, corsets, initially posted on my tumblr but I moved it over here because it be like that sometimes, they just want to make out but they can't because SOMEONE walks in on them, with a hint of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:15:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26018617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daddylonglegs13/pseuds/daddylonglegs13
Summary: The Doctor hates getting dressed in period accurate clothing. The Master is more than willing to offer his help. And once again, they are both terrible at locking doors.(In other words: the sequel to them getting interrupted during private moments that literally no one asked for. Plus a corset.)
Relationships: The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Series: Horny Time Lords Have No Rights [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1889389
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	A Moment's Silence

The Doctor had promised her fam a visit to the court of Queen Victoria, an old friend of hers. At the time, she hadn’t thought about how her appearance had changed since she had last seen her, but that had always been the sort of thing that she didn’t consider until it was a little too late. She wasn’t going to fixate on a detail as trivial as her clothes, until someone else brought it up.

“You’re going to the Victorian era dressed like  _ that _ ?” The Master had asked her that morning, clearly biting back a laugh as he spoke.

“Yes, I am. What’s wrong with it?” she had replied.

“What’s wrong with it?” He hadn’t been able to keep himself from chuckling then. “ _ Everything _ .”

He had then gone on to insult her clothes, something that she knew he had always disliked, though now he had an historical excuse to comment on the way she dressed. She had pointed out how impractical it was for her to dress in period accurate styles (“You try to wear a corset!”) and he had countered her all of her arguments with one of his own (“I  _ have _ , Doctor. I was a woman, once.”) Then he had offered his assistance, something that she had begrudgingly taken, and was beginning to realize that she probably shouldn’t have.

After spending nearly ten minutes sorting through the wardrobe, the Master had come into the dressing room with his arms full of clothing that the Doctor had definitely never worn before. She had eyed them with suspicion, before giving in and listening to him explain what they were for. The undergarments and the chemise had gone on easily enough and for a brief, fleeting moment, she thought that the styles of the Victorian era may not have been as uncomfortable as she thought.

Then, came the corset, and she was proven horribly wrong.

“Stay  _ still _ ,” the Master said impatiently.

“I  _ am _ ,” she snarled. “You try to stand still while someone crushes your ribs. See how you like it.” 

“I never minded it,” he replied, tightening another set of laces without any warning. The Doctor dug her fingernails into the table that she was bracing herself against, nearly leaving claw marks in her wake.

“ _ I _ do. How am I supposed to run in this?”

“Why would you have to run?” the Master asked.

“Why  _ wouldn’t _ I?” When didn’t she have to run? This comment drew another laugh from him and the Doctor was reminded of his proximity to her. She was sure that he was much closer than he needed to be for this process.

“Right.” he responded, and she could hear the smile in his voice as he tugged at the laces. “I forgot how good you were at finding dangerous situations.” 

She swore he inched closer the longer he spoke, and when she felt his hot breath brush against the back of her neck, she jumped in surprise. He responded by resting one of his palms flat against her upper back in a gesture that shouldn’t have been particularly intimate but  _ was _ .

“What happened to staying still?”

“What happened to personal space?” she shot back.

“Oh, come on, Doctor. We moved past personal space a long time ago.” Still, he removed his hand from her back, respecting her words.

“When?” she asked, turning around and batting his hands away from her corset. “I don’t remember ever ‘moving past physical space’.” The Master let out a small, disappointed sigh, but took a step back nonetheless. 

“Take your pick. I’m sure it happened when I was still in my first incarnation.”

“Forget I asked,” the Doctor replied, glancing down at the corset encasing her waist. She wasn’t sure how he -  _ Missy _ \- had been able to wear them. This felt like a form of  _ torture _ to her. Letting out a small sigh, she found the set of clasps at the front of the corset and undid the first row of them. As soon as he saw what she was doing, the Master made a loud noise of protest.

“I’ve spent nearly  _ fifteen minutes _ getting that to fit right. You are  _ not _ going to waste all of my hard work by taking it off.”

“I’m not going to die by suffocating in a corset,” she muttered. 

“You are not going to  _ suffocate _ ,” he spat, a strangled noise escaping his lips as she undid another clasp. He was acting like she was committing an act of planetary genocide - not that he would be particularly bothered by that - when she was just trying to get out of an item of clothing. 

“Look it up. I’m sure someone suffocated in one of these.”

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?” the Doctor asked.

“Stop  _ ruining my work _ ,” he growled, hands flexing at his sides.

“I am not wearing this,” she protested, and undid another clasp. He reached up, grabbing her hand before she could do any more damage.

“Yes, you  _ are _ . Now that you’ve wasted my time.” The Doctor let out a noise that sounded dangerously close to a growl, and her gaze turned to a glare. He took a step forward.

“You don’t get to dress me up.”

“You agreed!” he cried.

“And now I am un-agreeing with you. There.” 

“Why are you so annoying?” 

“I could say the same thing about you,” she muttered, only to realize just how close they had gotten during the course of this squabble. She glanced down, staring at the Master’s hand on her own. 

“Not the same,” she replied, turning her attention back to his face.

“Then explain the difference to me.” He let go of her hand and his fingers travelled up on her arm, slowly moving along her skin and finally stopping on her shoulder. There was a kind of gleam in his eye, and the Doctor realized what he was trying to do.

“You’re doing this now?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. The Master chuckled in response.

“What’s wrong with now?” he replied, his voice sounding more like a purr than anything else.

“Everything!” The Doctor pointed out. “We’re keeping them waiting.”

“No,  _ you’re _ keeping them waiting,” he said. “If you had just stayed still, we would have been done a long time ago.”

“That’s unfair.”

“That’s honesty, Doctor.” Somehow, he managed to get even closer to her, leaving their hands sandwiched between her chest and his own. “I thought that you’d appreciate it.” She did her best to ignore the feeling of his breath against her skin.

“I do,” she insisted. 

“Do you?” His hand moved to the back of her neck, gently resting his palm there. “Prove it.”

The Doctor knew that he was no longer referring to any sort of honesty. The feeling in the air around them shifted, and she wished that she had the willpower to ignore it altogether. Unfortunately, this was not the case. In response, her fingers curled into his shirt. She could feel her hearts pounding in her chest, and she was fairly certain that she could  _ hear _ his doing the exact same thing. A sign that they both wanted what the other was offering.

_ Just a little closer _ … 

The sound of the door to the changing room opening distracted both of them, though the Doctor reacted to it first, practically  _ hurling _ herself away from the Master. He followed suit, though instead of trying to move away from her, he just cursed under his breath and dragged his hand down his face. She half expected to see Ryan there again but instead, it was Yaz who had interrupted them. A familiar feeling of mortification rose up inside of her as the Doctor searched for something to say. She was cut off before any words could come out of her mouth.

“Do you know how to knock?” The Master’s voice was frustrated, bordering on  _ angry _ . Instinctively, she spoke before he could escalate the situation.

“Ignore him,” she said, pretending that she didn’t hear him groan in response. “What do you need?”

Yaz’s reaction was a little less shocked than Ryan’s had been, though not by much. The Doctor didn’t blame her - it was challenging for humans to understand the nature of a relationship that was decidedly  _ not _ human. After a few moments of stunned silence, Yaz cleared her throat and replied.

“I heard arguing and I thought…” She trailed off.

“Thought what?” the Master snarled, and the Doctor sent him a fiery glare before turning her attention back to Yaz.

“We’re fine here,” she said, smiling as she spoke. “Thanks for checking in.”

“Uh… yeah.” Yaz cleared her throat once more. “I can see that.” She glanced at her and it was only then that the Doctor realized that she was half naked by Victorian standards. Hopefully, Yaz wasn’t holding her to Victorian standards.

“We’ll be up soon,” the Doctor promised, nodding at her. “Sorry for keeping you waiting.”

“It’s fine!” Yaz squeaked. “Take your time.” Before the Doctor could reply or the Master could snap at her again, she was gone and had shut the door behind her.

The Doctor let out a breath and without a second thought, she finished undoing the rest of the clasps, letting the corset fall to the ground. The Master glared at her as she did so, but made no attempt to stop her.

“You need to learn how to lock doors,” he commented, the frustration still in his voice.

“So do you,” she pointed out.

“Not my Tardis. Not my responsibility.” 

“You’re right, it’s not. Now leave me alone so I can get changed,” she said, gathering her usual outfit in her arms. She would rather get kicked out of the court of Queen Victoria than have to wear a corset for another second.

“You didn’t have a problem with me being here earlier!” he protested, scowling at her when she grabbed his arm and starting pulling him toward the door.

“My Tardis.” She grinned at him. “My rules.”

“I don’t like  _ your _ rules,” the Master complained. She opened the door and slowly pushed him out into the corridor. She had been planning on leaving him at that, but the look of dejection on his face was overpowering and she couldn’t help but take pity on him. Without another word, the Doctor leaned up and kissed him softly. She slipped her fingers between his own and gave his hand a gentle squeeze before breaking the kiss.

“Does that make up for it?” she asked. The Master’s look of indifference would have been far more convincing if it wasn’t for the flushed look on his face.

“I’m still mad about the corset,” he replied.

“I know. But you’ll get over it someday.” She stood up on her toes and kissed his cheek before closing the door and leaving him alone in the hallway.

On one side of the door, the Doctor smiled.

On the other side of the door, the Master smiled back.

**Author's Note:**

> this is a thing I do now. apparently I love toying with these two and always having someone interrupt them when they're having a nice moment together. horny people have no rights ig.
> 
> come say hi to me at @spyfalls on tumblr!


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